


Need Not Be Said

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 22:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4322616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d admitted once, almost lifetimes ago, that Dick was his favorite partner. Even in all the years that passed, in all the time they had been apart, it remained true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need Not Be Said

**Author's Note:**

> Another one of those instances where I probably didn’t follow the prompt at all, and just started writing words down. I like to imagine that Dick and Damian have this thing where they don’t tell each other things because they just _know_? Also, slow burns are pretty great. There’s a lot of implications of feelings and emotions here, is what I’m trying to say.
> 
> Basically, this probably sucks. If anything, just a bunch of vignettes of the two working together as partners after a long time and being content in each other’s presence. Damian is roughly 22 or older. Dick’s whatever. Nightwing remained in his blue digs, Damian’s is the Chicago-red version.
> 
> Can be considered shippy or gen, and really it's all up to the reader.

Dick sighed. “So, we’re at another standstill.”

“No.” Damian retorted. “I gave you the facts. Now fix the problem. That’s what you always do.”

“Damian…” Dick snorted a laugh, rubbing at his eye.

“I’m done with Father’s lack of…anything remotely _fatherly_.” Damian asserted angrily. Dick could tell by the way he crossed his arms and looked away that he was hurt. And he couldn’t blame him. Bruce was…well, Bruce. The biggest mystery any of them have ever tried to solve. “And I plan to tell him that when I return to pick up my animals tomorrow.”

“Pick up?” Dick blinked. “Where are you taking them?”

Damian’s sharp gaze came back to his face and he raised his eyebrows with a lazy shrug. It hit Dick like a ton of bricks. Damian wasn’t here to just bitch about his latest problem with Bruce. He was here asking Dick what to do _next_.

The younger man seemed to realize Dick’s epiphany. “What, did you think I was going back?” He scoffed loudly, tightening his jaw. “This was the fourth time in two weeks, Grayson. Ninth time this month. After all these years, you’d think he’d be over that ridiculous fear of his.”

“He didn’t think you were going to kill him, Damian. I know he didn’t.” Dick muttered.

“ _You weren’t there_.” Damian hissed. “You didn’t see the look on his face.”

“No, but I _know_ -”

“If you’re not going to help me, then say so and don’t waste my time.” Damian stood, straightening the leather jacket that looked an awful lot like Jason’s as he moved around the sofa.

“Wait, where are you going?” Dick asked, twisting to follow his movements.

Damian shrugged again. “Maybe Drake and his cronies will pity an old teammate and let me stay at Titans Tower.”

“No…no wait. You’re can’t leave, Damian.” Dick leapt to his feet, vaulting over the back of the sofa. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed Damian’s arm, yanking him away from the door. “Not…like this. I’ll help you, you know I will. Take a night to cool off. Sleep on my sofa. We’ll figure it out in the morning, okay?”

Damian didn’t respond, keeping his eyes locked on the doorknob. Dick released his arm only to grab Damian’s face and forcibly turn it towards his.

_“Okay?”_ He repeated.

Damian scowled, shoulders dropping in defeat. “Fine.”

~

This was not the solution Dick anticipated.

He expected Bruce to come searching for his son. He expected Bruce to apologize and not mean it. He expected Damian to catch the insincerity. He even expected Damian to continue crashing on his sofa for at least a week.

He did not expect Damian to _move in_ – weapons, pets and easels included. He did not expect Titus, Alfred and the new puppy Martha to claim ownership of the couch. He did not expect to suddenly be sharing a bed.

But the biggest shock – he did not expect Damian to give up Robin.

“It’s been a while since I outgrew the title, don’t you think?” Was all Damian said when Dick asked.

“…Oh. Well. Yeah, I guess you might’ve.” Dick shrugged, unloading the Chinese take-out onto some plates.

“Besides, Robin works with Batman. In case you haven’t noticed – and I wouldn’t put it past you, Grayson – I don’t work with him anymore.” Damian was smirking when Dick glared at him over his shoulder.

“I _used_ to be Batman.” Dick said thoughtfully, placing the dishes on the table in front of the two of them. “…you could work with me. If you wanted.”

Damian hesitated, watching as Dick shoveled the chopsticks into his mouth. His voice was quiet. “You’d…be okay with that?”

Dick nodded, lips smacking obnoxiously as he chewed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t want to cause you trouble.” Damian explained. Dick shook his head. “Nightwing works alone.”

The older man laughed, quickly covering his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t know who keeps saying that, because I never did.”

Damian continued to stare, ignoring the food in front of him. “I wouldn’t be Robin.”

“That’s fine.”

“I’ll need a new uniform.”

“We’ll start brainstorming after dinner.” Dick motioned to Damian’s plate. “What do you want to be called?”

“I…” Damian looked down, seemingly unsure. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

Dick smiled and reached out, squeezing Damian’s wrist. “We’ll figure it out.”

~

It was nights like this Dick wondered how he ever successfully protected this city by himself. Three child abductions, four gang eruptions, two hostage situations – one of which he didn’t get to in time to prevent the bloodshed.

The victim was seventeen. At the bank to try and get a loan for an apartment for her and her baby.

He climbed quietly into the bedroom window, watching Damian’s side rise and fall as he breathed. He couldn’t help but smile, seeing Damian turned towards the window, hands tucked under his pillow and sleeping peacefully. Or more, sleeping _safely_. As much as he could use the help on patrol, he was glad Damian’s costume wasn’t ready yet, that Damian was still spending his nights memorizing Bludhaven’s streets and territories at the apartment. It worried him less, and made him more excited to come home every night, knowing Damian would be here waiting for him.

Just like that baby was waiting for its mother.

As he gently settled his feet on the floor, he could feel the dirt, sweat and blood covering his skin. He wanted nothing more than to just fall into the shower; let the water wash it all away. But he was too exhausted – physically and emotionally. And that tightness in his wrist, the potential cracked rib, and the slice on his leg that just missed the femoral artery…he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold himself up.

So instead of collapsing into the shower, he chose to drop into the bed.

The mattress bounced and squeaked underneath him. There was a sharp inhale as Damian stirred next to him. But before Damian could open his eyes or ask a question, Dick rolled towards him, wrapping his arm tightly around Damian’s torso.

Damian, of course, tensed at the contact. “Grayson, what’re you-”

“Nothing.” Dick said flatly, pressing his nose against Damian’s hair. “It’s fine.”

Damian paused, and Dick felt him shift his head downward. “You smell terrible. Are you…injured?”

“Yeah. Not gonna kill me. I’ll fix it in the morning.” Dick muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as Damian’s fingers brushed over his ribs.

“Rough night?” Damian’s voice was compassionate.

“Extremely.” Dick admitted. “Just…give me a minute, okay?”

Damian shifted, carefully laying his own arm across Dick’s waist. “Okay.”

~

“If you don’t come out in the next five seconds,” Dick called from underneath Titus and Martha – who was getting awfully big for something that Damian claimed was part bulldog – on the sofa. “I’m kicking the door down.”

“Quit being so impatient, jeez!” Damian shouted as the door flew open. His lips were pursed and eyes narrowed. Dick couldn’t help but laugh in delight. Damian huffed, crossing his arms as he looked down at himself. “I don’t know about this, Grayson.”

“It’s perfect, I swear.” Dick held up his hands as Martha hopped to the floor, trotting over to Damian and weaving around his legs. “How’s it feel?”

“Lighter without the cape.” Damian murmured with amusement, shifting his weight back and forth to watch Martha move. “I still think it looks too much like yours.”

“What’s wrong with mine?” Dick asked, watching the red-and-black uniform morph around Damian’s muscles. Damian rolled his eyes as he continued. “People dig the fingerstripes, I told you that.”

“People aren’t supposed to _like_ us.” Damian sighed, running his fingers over the red accents at his hips. “But still…”

“Besides, that’s the plan, remember?” Dick was finally able to shove Titus off of him and stood. “The bad guys don’t need to know there’s two of us. The more similar we look, the more confused they’ll be.”

“This isn’t a permanent solution.” Damian insisted. “Once I have more time, and am more settled in the city, and Bludhaven isn’t on the verge of three gang wars, we _will_ be changing it.”

“Of course.” Dick laughed. “But this isn’t so bad for the meantime. I dig the red.”

Damian smirked, holding up his hand between them. “Better than your blue.”

“Watch it, tough guy.” Dick warned, grabbing Damian’s two colored fingers and twisting them playfully. Damian hummed a laugh, pulling back. “Think of a name yet?”

“Not yet.” Damian shrugged, pulling the zipper at his throat down. It was the middle of the afternoon, they weren’t going on patrol for at least eight more hours. “Not much of a point is there? If the goal right now is to make them think there’s two of you?”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t need one for our allies.” Dick countered. Damian seemed to ponder this as he stripped off his gauntlets and pulled his arms out of the sleeves. “But yeah, you’re right. No rush.”

“Well if you have any suggestions, I’m all ears.”

“Flamebird’s always open.” Dick suggested, almost jokingly. Damian scoffed. “Hey now, don’t diss the legend. It was either that or Bratwing.”

Damian froze as he pushed the uniform to his waist, sharp eyes shooting up to Dick’s face. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Dick drawled, leaning closer to Damian’s face. “I think it’s kind of _cute_.”

“Don’t.” Damian said tersely as Dick spun away, Martha and Titus following him. “You. _Dare_.”

Dick glanced over his shoulder, eyes mischievous. “I’d like to see you try and stop me.”

~

Damian had to admit, he missed this.

He missed the synchronization. He missed the banter and barbs. He missed watching the older man work.

He’d admitted once, almost lifetimes ago, that Dick was his favorite partner. Even in all the years that passed, in all the time they had been apart, it remained true.

Nothing ever had to be said between them, because the other just knew. They knew how much they cared for each other. They knew how much they _meant_ to each other.

As he jumped from the fire escape, taking out the gunman in Nightwing’s blind spot, he wondered if Dick knew that something was changing. Something between them was shifting. But…not in a bad way. Like they were becoming closer, their bond stronger.

No, that was impossible. According to Wilkes, he and Grayson couldn’t get closer if they _tried_.

He couldn’t put a name to it, that’s why he hadn’t bothered to bring it up. Or maybe that’s why it had been on his mind for a while. Since that night Dick came home so distraught and clingy. He’d claimed to need only a minute, but was still holding Damian tightly when the younger woke up a few hours later.

“Ready to go, Bratwing?” Damian blinked, glancing over to where Nightwing was shooting a grapple.

Damian huffed, following suit. “I hate you so much.”

Nothing ever _had_ to be said between them, but maybe this _should_ be.

~

“So…” Diane started, watching as her men handcuffed the thieves. She glanced up at Nightwing for a moment, before he gaze swung over to the other masked man, who was currently attempting to scoop a stray dog and her litter of four puppies into his arms. He was surprisingly succeeding. “…your, uh…sidekick?”

“Partner.” Nightwing grinned. “Apprentice, if you want to be real technical about it.”

Diane nodded. “I think I recognize him. Used to be Robin, right? Out in Gotham?”

And Dick had known Diane for a long time. If anyone deserved his honesty, it was her. “Yes ma’am.”

“Huh.” Diane huffed. Damian’s soft voice floated towards them as he attempted to calm the mother dog. “He seems…happier than I remember.”

Dick laughed. “Really?”

“Or…calmer or…something.” Diane stuttered, eyes narrowed. “I worked with him and Batman a few times, on a serial killer case. Batman was Batman. All grumbly and whatever. I remember expecting the kid to be this hyper little thing but…he wasn’t. He was just as broody, if not more so, as Batman.”

“You’re not the first to have said that.” Nightwing admitted.

“And he just seemed so _angry_. I always thought that was a little concerning, a teenager that _dark_.” She continued. The mother dog, now wrapped carefully around Damian’s shoulders, leaned close to Damian’s throat, tongue licking towards his chin gratefully. “But he seems to have changed. At least, since he started running with you.”

“You think?” Nightwing hummed. Damian had glanced up now, watching Dick expectantly. He always hated socializing with the police. “I hadn’t noticed.”

~

“Damian, please.” Dick begged from the doorway, Martha whining lightly at his side. “Say something.”

“Father showed up.” Damian replied blankly, not turning away from the window. “I don’t know why I thought…I figured he wouldn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because Titus wasn’t his dog.” Damian snapped. “I only buried him on the manor grounds because that’s where he spent most his life. And there’s nowhere I would feel comfortable doing so here in Bludhaven.”

“I know, I get that.” Dick said. “Did Bruce…”

“He wondered if I wanted to return to Gotham. Not as Robin or his partner, just as myself. I think he…misses me.” Damian was monotone the entire time, and Dick hated that. “I told him no, I had no plans to. I am perfectly happy here in Bludhaven with you.”

Dick didn’t know why, but that made him feel awfully smug.

He didn’t ask Damian anything else, and Damian gave no more information on his trip back to Gotham. Dick knew he was hurting. Titus lived long past what normal Great Danes do, but that didn’t make his passing any less painful. After a moment, Dick pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the room.

“Grayson, I wish to be alone.”

“I know you do.” Dick agreed, sitting on the mattress, leaning back on his hands. Damian spun towards him, and Dick could see the remnants of tear tracks down his cheeks. “But sometimes what you want isn’t what you need.”

~

Things got bad not long after that. The gang war picked up. Batman, Wonder Woman and Superman had all gone missing. The Justice League was in an uproar. Tim and Jason both seemed to have some sort of mental breakdown then, sending them to opposite corners of the universe. Cassandra couldn’t return from China.

More nights than not, Dick and Damian ran themselves ragged. Sleep was missed, injuries ignored, diets and training abandoned. Whenever they did return to the small apartment they shared, they often just ended up crashing on the couch, using the cat and dog as blankets. Damian would always sit against the sofa arm, Dick flopped across him.

Every day, it seemed, someone they cared about disappeared. First it was Bruce and Clark, then Tim and Jason. Not long after, communications with Roy Harper and Kori stopped, then Colin Wilkes just never returned to his Gotham base.

But they never spoke about the ones they believed to be lost, never talked about how their world was crashing down, not when they laid on that couch. Instead, they would just hang on to each other. Hold hands, pet the other’s hair, absently lean against each other. If one began to cry, the other wouldn’t say anything.

_Just don’t let go_. That’s what they told themselves. Never to each other, but the plea was always present when their eyes met. _Please, just don’t let go._

~

As quickly as the darkness fell over them, it seemed to lift. Those they’d lost were found, amazingly, alive. All crisis was averted, and bad guys stopped. For the first time in almost a year everything was…calm.

He and Damian were standing on the roof, watching as the gang’s leader was loaded into the squad car. That was the final piece, the final thing they had to do before Damian was to go back to Gotham. Bruce had come back alive, but injured. Damian was going to back to take care him. Not permanently, but no one knew how long it was going to take.

And there was so much Dick wanted to say in this moment, so much he wanted to do. Leap for joy, shout to the heavens, lift Damian in the air and spin him around until they were dizzy and…well, other things that had crossed his mind once or twice since Damian had moved in.

But he didn’t do any of them. It wasn’t the right time. Maybe later, when they went home they could celebrate the long-awaited victory. Later, before he took Damian to the train station, they could ta-

“Grayson.”

“Hm?” Neither of them looked at each other, eyes still glued to the scene below. There was a pause before Dick felt something hook around his middle and ring fingers. Without moving his head, he glanced down to see that it was Damian’s own fingers. He didn’t know if Damian had meant to, using only the colored digits of their uniforms, but it was an interesting visual anyway, the red and blue tangled together.

“Thank you.”

Damian’s voice was soft and genuine. Dick let himself fully look down before following the red stripe of Damian’s arm up to his face. Of course, the younger wasn’t looking at him.

Dick smiled. “For?”

Damian blinked slowly before turning his head. Dick’s smile waned slightly as he took in Damian’s features. His face was so serious, so open, even behind the mask. His grip on Dick’s hand twitched tighter.

“Everything.”

There were so many emotions in that one word. Raw, unaltered, strong. And they all hit Dick with full force. Damian said nothing else, eyes twitching across Dick’s face, trying to read his reaction.

The term ‘everything’ entailed an awful lot, and for a history as big as theirs, it included even more than that. But Dick knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew exactly what Damian was talking about, exactly what things _everything_ covered. And he almost laughed, because whatever he gave Damian, Damian returned it tenfold.

And even if he hadn’t. Everything was never anything Damian had to thank him for.

He felt his smile widen once more as he squeezed Damian’s fingers back before tugging the younger man towards him. He reached out with his free hand, guiding Damian’s head to lean against his neck before wrapping his arms tightly around him. Tentatively, Damian allowed himself to slump against Dick’s body weight.

“No, Bratwing.” Dick whispered warmly, leaving a lingering kiss on Damian’s temple. Damian looked up at him, eyes full affection that Dick knew was mirrored in his own. “Thank _you_.”


End file.
